What Is Sex?
by sweet-and-simple
Summary: Ryohei calls it endurance training.  1833 HibariXRyohei 8059 YamamotoXGokudera mention of one-sided RomarioXKusakabe


Ryohei calls it endurance training. There's stretching, flexing, muscle movement, pain, something else that isn't pain, screaming, panting – out of breath, adrenaline, unsteady limbs, and that thing that makes it EXTREME. But he doesn't know what that part is.

Hibari calls it fucking Ryohei's brains out and telling him it's endurance training.

The boxer's version of porn is watching two men beat each other to a pulp, the magazines that should have featured scantily-clad to naked women have never reached his hands or eyes, attention held by sports journals.

Most likely, someone has told Ryohei was sex is. They most likely told him that it's when a boy and girl like each other very much and then they have S-E-X so that the stork will bring them a baby and then they'll be one happy family for the rest of their lives…

Ryohei most likely hasn't had the upgraded, more truthful version of the birds and the bees, though. The one where he's told what S-E-X is and that the stork is really a group of doctors and nurses that will bend over a screaming, sweating woman to peel a fetus out of her vagina. Most likely, when that conversation was going on, his mind was on other things. Like boxing. Or exercising. Or wondering if his sister was safe wherever she was.

Hibari doesn't bother to ask if he knows was gay means. Ryohei will most likely think back to the times when he and his sister would go shopping for clothes and would come across a herd of girls giggling about how _gay_ a shirt was or how _gay_ the clerk was or something like that. He would most likely shout out in answer, "It means EXTREME?"

Because that's Ryohei.

And this is Hibari, balls deep inside of him, hand on the back of his neck to hold him in place, and his other hand tight on Ryohei's hip, pushing and pulling him into and out of his thrusts like two well-oiled machines working towards the same goal.

Hibari takes the hand from Ryohei's nape and relocates it to his cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts, and grits his teeth as Ryohei tightens around him, drags at him, shivers and squeezes. Ryohei screams. Again.

He screams a lot, in that harsh, gravelly voice of his, like a roar except Hibari can detect the edge of desperation, the bitter tone of sweet defeat. In another round of endurance training, Ryohei is going to lose.

He loses valiantly, though. His ass clenches around Hibari to the point where he can't even move and he snarls as he feels his sac draw up and the ball of tension in his gut releases suddenly, painfully, euphorically.

They orgasm almost in the same moment, but Ryohei is still first and he stains the prefect's hand and the Disciplinary Committee Office floor with his cum as Hibari safely empties into a condom.

Ryohei's arms give out on him. He sinks to the ground and burrows his face into the carpet. "E-Extreme…!"

Hibari licks the essence off of his fingers. Bitter sweet like Ryohei's defeat. And he smirks. "I win."

Ryohei calls it asking for advice from his kohai.

His kohai calls it asking for advice at the _worst_ time.

Gokudera curses a blue streak as Yamamoto's bedroom door comes off its hinges and a teenager in red jogging gear stands in its wake, face set in serious and grave lines. "TAKESHI!"

Yamamoto sighs and reluctantly separates from his lover, feeling their bodies come apart with an almost tear-jerking regret, and finds the blanket that had long since fallen to the floor. Gokudera snatches it from his hands and wraps it around himself. The silverette glares at him as if this is completely his fault and in reality, Yamamoto has never showed Ryohei where he lives before.

How very strange.

"_Hai_, sempai?"

"WHERE'S MY – were you two just doing endurance training?"

Silence. Yamamoto blinks. Ryohei stares. Gokudera gawks.

The baseball nut tries to jump home and make his way back to third base. "_Hai_! We were definitely –"

"Are you _really_ that stupid?" Gokudera shoots his dreams to hell and Yamamoto laments his losses in the darkest corner of his mind. "We were having sex, Lawnhead!"

"SEX?" Ryohei flushes a crimson red. "But sex is when a boy and a girl like each other to the EXTREME and then the stork brings them a baby!"

"You fucking idiot! That's not sex, that's what parents tell their little kids so they'll stop asking!" Gokudera pulls out a pair of glasses from nowhere and a hair tie.

The next thing Yamamoto knows, there's a table stacked with books in the center of his room and Gokudera is wearing his pants, spectacles perched on his nose, and hair done up in a high ponytail, and Ryohei looks just as confused as Yamamoto as he sits beside the silverette.

"Read this passage here on page 121 and then I want you to read this book _here_ from chapters thirty-two to fifty-seven and then you'll read _this_ pamphlet and – do you know what the bad touches are? _Great_ (Lawnhead). Then read this one RIGHT NOW!"

"You're not the boss of me, octopus head!" Ryohei barks.

Yamamoto rubs his face and tiredly lopes the blanket Gokudera had abandoned around his waist. This is going to be very long and very frustrating. He silently tells his baseball bat that there will be no homeruns tonight and settles in for watching Gokudera go in between beating Ryohei stupid and trying to expand his knowledge on sex.

"Do you know what gay means?" Gokudera asks after two hours of arguing with Ryohei and occasionally actually getting something through to him.

Yamamoto can actually see Ryohei destroying the walls of his mind to try and come up with an acceptable answer. "EXTREME?"

"NO! Do you know _anything_? Don't answer that, of course you don't. I can't have you shaming the Vongola name by being stupid like this, I'll have to try my hardest to inform you about this matter…" He looks less than enthused.

Yamamoto smiles, because this actually is the man he loves and he wants him to always be happy, and chirps, "Tsuna will be really happy that you did this for him, Hayato."

"Don't call me that, baseball idiot!" But Gokudera flushes pleasantly nonetheless and it doesn't take glasses to see that he takes to teaching Ryohei with a lighter mood.

Tsuna will most likely be happy that Gokudera did this for him too. If word had gotten out to Reborn that Ryohei knew so little about sex, he would have assigned Tsuna to inform him and then Tsuna would have had to suffer through the awkwardness of an explanation.

It takes another three hours before Yamamoto can say for certain, however, that Gokudera's way of teaching is getting them nowhere. "Hayato, I think I have an idea!"

His lover eyes him through those sexy-as-fuck glasses of his and it's all Yamamoto can do to not jump him there and give Ryohei an example of what both gay and sex mean. "_You_?"

"Yep! It'll work, trust me!"

"DO IT!" Ryohei, who has been trying to see if the book he is being forced to read is more understandable upside down, glares at him with irritated eyes afloat sunken, purple bags. Yamamoto just barely holds back a flinch at the sight. "WHATEVER YOUR IDEA IS, DO IT!"

"Gotcha, sempai!"

He ties the blanket around his waist and digs through his closet till he finds the chalk board he hasn't used since he was nine.

Clearing his throat, he begins drawing.

One set of stick figures is of a man and a woman in a very intimate position and the one next to it is of two men, one bent over and the other behind him. Yamamoto labels them respectively, SEX and GAY SEX.

Then he turns back to Ryohei.

It takes another moment, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed, but then he sees the light bulb for off for Ryohei and his face turns brick red.

And then that light bulb shatters in a show of flying glass as Ryohei's expression turns stormy. "HIBARIIIIII! YOU FUCKING LIAR!"

Hibari, amazingly enough, does have a home. That home, even more amazingly, is not in the school. It's across the street from the school.

Not that anyone notices the traditional Japanese mansion across the way with its thatched roof and earthen tones. No one ever does. Herbivores could be so ignorant.

That is, as of now, excluding Ryohei.

It doesn't take much effort to break through a sliding paper door but Hibari has never had the problem of having to deal with that till the boxer rips through it in red hot passion, looking for and finding Hibari with his gunmetal grey eyes. "YOU!" He jabs a finger in his direction. "We've been having SEX!"

Hibari sips his tea calmly and thinks of the best way to take care of this nuisance. "No."

"WHAT?"

"No, we haven't been having sex."

Ryohei snarls. "Yeah, we have! I saw the PICTURES!"

"That doesn't mean we've been having sex."

Ryohei deflates, just the slightest bit, and confusion moves in. "Then what have we been doing to the extreme? And don't say endurance training because it's not that!"

"_You're_ the one who said it was endurance training. I never put a name to it."

"THEN PUT A NAME TO IT NOW!"

Hibari deflects his fist with a tonfa and continues on with his tea. "And who do you think you are to be telling me what to do?"

"I'M SASAGAWA RYOHEI! MY MOTTO IS LIVE TO THE EXTREME!" His other hand snaps out and wraps around the lapels of his yukata as Ryohei's face comes within centimeters of his own, so close that he can smell Ryohei's lunch on his breath, see the flecks of blue in his eyes that most people miss. "And I'm _horny_."

Hibari finishes his tea, carefully, daintily, and then sets the delicate cup aside.

He grabs Ryohei by his throat, twists him around till his back hits the tatami floor with an echoing thump and forces his hands over his head. Ryohei struggles, obviously. He kicks and bucks and writhes and flexes and it's a lot like holding onto a charging bull as he glares up at Hibari. But it's also exciting. Very exciting.

Hibari loves the struggle play. Ryohei must like it too because Hibari can see his erection pressing against the seam of his jogging pants. "Why didn't you say that to begin with? That's what makes you an herbivore, you never get to the point." He considers his option for a moment, studies Ryohei, and then kisses him. Or does something that is vaguely relatable to a kiss if a kiss is all teeth and blood. "I call it fucking. Every time, I'm _fucking_ you."

"Now's a FUCKING good time to FUCK me again, to the FUCKING extreme!" Ryohei snarls at him, bottom lip scarlet, and returns the biting kiss. Tongues meet somehow, dangerously through the perils of sharp teeth, and battle. Both sides refuse to lose.

Ryohei's clothes are ripped off and it's anyone's guess as to where they and Hibari's yukata go.

Not that Ryohei really cares.

No, he _cheers_.

Last night was bad for Kusakabe.

People around the world have what they think are bad nights. _"I had a bad night last night, I couldn't sleep at all!" "I had a bad night last night, my friend forced me to go to this party!" "I had a bad night last night, my team lost the game!"_

Kusakabe's bad night included having Romario at his apartment. Romario was a little buzzed, happy to see Kusakabe, and content to know that Dino had no plans of visiting Hibari immediately so much as making excuses to eat Nana's cooking.

Kusakabe had been happy too. Really happy. Too happy. He made a stupid mistake and every time he remembers it, he wants to bash his head into the nearest wall or, better yet, his boss's tonfas. He wants to go to sleep and never wake up again to face the humiliation of it but he's stronger than that. Better than that.

"_Whoa, Tetsuya, what are you DOING?"_

Maybe he isn't better than that….

He stares at his reflection in the mirror. Sunken eyes, pale complexion, obvious exhaustion, an air of utter and complete defeat… the good news is that he didn't cry. He has never cried a day in his life, even when it came to the worst of Kyouya's "bites". He can be proud of the fact that this time is no different.

He sinks to the ground and rests his head against the porcelain sink. "I'm an idiot."

Being Kyouya's right-hand man is a difficult and unfulfilling job. He doesn't have time for anything else except for Kyouya's whims, he has no friends because he'll most likely one day have to beat the shit out of them for disobeying his boss (that and everyone is too scared of him to even try), he can't even stay with his _family_ because his brother once had a nasty run-in with Kyouya and his Tonfas of Death. He doesn't resent Kyouya or anything. Once upon a time, Kyouya saved his life (but now that Kusakabe thinks back on that, it most likely wasn't as heroic as he remembered it to be), and Kusakabe was eternally grateful to him. Once he got to know the prefect, he wasn't even that bad of a person. Antisocial and not good with physical contact, yeah, okay, that's the truth.

But still not a bad person and Kusakabe, for all the terrible things that came with being with Hibari, has no plans of leaving the prefect anytime soon.

Romario, for all the tragedy in Kusakabe's life and the pain and misery he must go through with the occasional twists and turns of relief, is his first friend (excluding that strange group of kids that keep getting on his boss's nerves) since he met up with Kyouya.

That doesn't mean that the crush he has on Romario is only because of gratitude!

"_You're just a kid, you'll get over it soon enough…"_

Trust the only guy in the world he likes to be the first to call him a _kid_. His mom used to say that he was born looking old. At sixteen, he doesn't even have to show an ID for getting alcohol.

Which was the first trip he made after Tetsuya left in awkward silence.

How much mouth wash is enough mouth wash to make certain that Hibari doesn't know that he got stupid drunk last night? Better yet, how much mouth wash _isn't_ enough without not using mouth wash at all? Because getting beaten up doesn't sound like a bad idea right now.

He swipes his forehead. _'I really shouldn't have kissed him.'_

Kusakabe is two minutes late getting to his boss's home. He waits just inside the door for a tonfa to come flying out of nowhere and hit him and a voice that would say, "You're late."

It doesn't happen.

He clears his throat nervously. "Kyouya?" Kusakabe toes off his shoes and switches them for the indoor pair he keeps on him for situations like these. "It's time to go…?"

No reply.

Hibari is a beast to wake up in the morning, which is why Kusakabe is usually so grateful that he gets up by himself. There is that one time, every once in awhile though, where Hibari decides that he doesn't care for sunlight or his internal clock and continues to do the third thing he is most famous for: sleep.

And sleep.

And sleep.

He once slept for two days and then bit all of his subordinates (including Kusakabe) to death for not waking him up earlier.

Kusakabe prepares himself for the worst morning possible to follow the worst night of his life and sneaks off towards his boss's bedroom.

He parts the sliding paper doors carefully. "Kyou- ya?"

Hibari isn't in bed. But someone is. Someone that is tied down to the four posts with bite and claw marks over his body and a white substance is seeping out between his legs. It's likely that the man is dead, as there's no movement.

Kusakabe pinches the bridge of his nose and hopes that he's seeing things because, if he's right, that man is Sasagawa Ryohei and he's part of that strange group of kids that Hibari is constantly disciplining. And, in all honesty, this is the first time Kusakabe has come to realize that his boss just may be sexually active.

The thought is terrifying. Hibari. Having sex. _"I'll bite you to orgasm." _NO. Not something he needs to think about.

Straining his ears, he can now hear the private shower running. Hibari must have been leaving this mess to him. _Damn it_. He isn't sure which is worse – cleaning up a dead friend's body or waking up his boss. Either way, this morning just might break him.

He finds a body bag in the closet (don't ask) and goes to untie the corpse. His hand happens to graze the back of Ryohei's hand.

"W-WHA?" The dead man snorts, chokes, snores for another moment, and then stops abruptly. He turns his head to stare blearily up at Kusakabe, who stands at the side of the bed frozen in surprise. "Oh, KUSAKABE! What's up?"

The shower stops. Kusakabe exhales noisily through his nose and waits for it.

A tonfa connects with his left temple and sends him tumbling to the ground.

"You're late."

Author's Note: Starsrforevermore wanted an 1833 story. I hope you enjoy it! And, yes, RomarioXKusakabe snuck its way into this…


End file.
